The comm officer reached for the controls to open a channel to the other Zi’i warships. Sage couldn’t allow that.

Without looking at the Zi’i pointing the death launcher at him, he threw himself into a backward roll. He jumped up in front of his foe as the alien shifted his aim toward him. Sage knocked the spear-hurling weapon aside and sprang past the Zi’i, hurling an armored elbow into his side as he went.

Grsh and the officers weren’t armed, so Sage didn’t anticipate projectiles coming his way, but he still hurried to the bulkhead so he could put his back to it. The Zi’i threw his weapon down, whirled, and rose up on two legs, his claws raking toward Sage’s face.

Sage twisted and launched a side kick at the Zi’i’s exposed belly. His armor enhanced his speed, and he connected before the alien could compensate. Those claws still slashed through the air scant inches away from his face.

Aware of the rest of the Zi’i racing toward him, Sage jammed his helmet on, not bothering with the fasteners, and reached for the discarded death launcher. Grsh sprang as Sage’s fingers wrapped around it.

He dove to the side, rolling again. Grsh crashed into the bulkhead where Sage had been standing.

Sage leaped up, the death launcher in hand. It was big and bulky, half spear thrower and half high-tech weapon. Without the assistance from his armor, he would have struggled to lift it, but now, he had no trouble pointing it at the admiral.

“Halt, Grsh,” he said.

Claws scraped on the decking as the bridge officers raced toward him. Sage shifted himself back toward the bulkhead to protect his back while keeping the weapon trained on Grsh.

“Keep coming, and he dies,” Sage snarled at the Zi’i, secretly hoping they wouldn’t stop, that they would give him an excuse to fire.

They paused, but Grsh himself charged at Sage.

He was almost caught off-guard. The admiral tried to spring over the death launcher to tear his head off with powerful claws, but Sage raised the weapon in time. As Grsh slashed at him with those deadly claws, Sage fired. The short spear crackled with electricity as it sprang free—and slammed into the admiral’s chest.

The head of it plunged through fur and muscle, and crackling lightning spread all around Grsh’s body. The admiral roared in pain, but he still flailed at Sage. His eyes burned with battle fury.

Sage leaped to the side, but even injured, the admiral was fast, and the bulkhead got in the way of Sage’s retreat. His helmet, not fully on, twisted on his head and interfered with his sight.

Cursing, he tore it free. Just as those claws whipped through the air at him.

They squealed as they scraped across the shoulder of Sage’s armor. The admiral’s other set of claws aimed for his eyes. Sage jerked his head away, clunking it against the bulkhead.

Fire erupted at the side of his face as one claw caught him. He yelled in pain and anger, but made himself calmly thumb another spear down into the launcher.

Sage was aware that the other Zi’i had stopped and stood in a semi-circle around him and the admiral. He didn’t know if they couldn’t find an opening to jump into the fray or if they had decided this was a matter to be decided one-on-one, man to Zi’i.

Grsh faced him, all four legs on the deck, the end of the spear sticking out of his chest, blood dripping down its length. Blood dripped from his mouth too. He couldn’t last much longer, surely.

But the enraged admiral charged, as if he fully believed he could win.

Sage pulled the trigger. The death launcher fired, and the spear thudded into Grsh’s head, right between his eyes. The lightning danced all around his head, and the smell of charred meat filled the bridge.

Finally, the admiral stiffened, then went limp, collapsing to the deck. Dead.

Watching him, Sage almost missed one of the Zi’i officers leaping for him.

He thumbed another spear into the launcher as he whipped it up. He fired, catching this one in mid-air, the same as he’d done with the admiral. The electric spear slammed into its chest, but the airborne Zi’i continued toward him. There was no room for Sage to back up, and Grsh’s body blocked the way to the side.

Sage dropped into a crouch, then dove under the bridge officer as the wounded Zi’i flew over him. The alien smashed into the bulkhead where he’d been standing.

Sage jumped up, glimpsing the other two Zi’i converging on him, attacking as one this time. And quickly.

Before Sage got his feet fully under him, one belted him in the side, the muscled arm as hard and rigid as a club. Sage flew across the bridge and smashed into a row of consoles, his back striking hard enough to dent the metal.

Fortunately, his armor cushioned him, and he got his feet under him immediately. A good thing, because both Zi’i followed him, thundering across the bridge.

Sage thumbed the final spear into the launcher and fired. This time, he only caught his target in the shoulder. Not a killing blow. But the electricity sparked around the Zi’i officer, and his head flew back as he roared in pain.

The second Zi’i didn’t slow down.

With only a split second before the alien would be upon him, Sage threw the now-empty weapon at him to distract him. His instincts told him to dodge to the side and get out of the way, but he put some trust in his armor. It would keep him alive against claws and fangs—at least for a while.

He ran in as the weapon bounced off the Zi’i, deflected by a paw. For a second, his enemy seemed surprised. Sage landed four powerful punches to the alien’s face, throat, and chest before it recovered. Even though his armor lent him more power, the Zi’i shook off the blows with a growl. The alien snapped at him, fangs flashing in the light coming from the displays. Once again, Sage met the attack. This time with his head.

If he’d still worn his helmet, he would have slammed it straight into the alien maw, but he worried about impaling himself. Instead, he came up from below, clunking his head under his foe’s jaw. It hurt, but the Zi’i yowled as his jaw was forced shut with a snap. Sage hoped he had bit his tongue off.

Wanting time to collect himself and come up with more efficient tactics, Sage sprang away.

Expecting his enemy to follow—perhaps the one he’d hit in the shoulder too—he kept his fists up and ready. But as the two officers charged him, a great shudder shook the ship, rocking the deck like a boat on a tumultuous ocean. The lights went out, all of them, even the indicators on the consoles.

Hoping he had the layout of the bridge firmly in his mind, Sage darted forward and to the side, to where the death launcher had clattered down. Claws clacked on the deck less than two feet away.

He found the weapon with his foot, plucked it up, and sprinted toward the bridge doors, toward the spot where the admiral had fallen.

“He’s running,” one of the Zi’i blurted.

Not exactly.

Sage reached the fallen admiral, almost tripping over his large body. He bent down, patting around for the two spears. He yanked one out as claws clattered across the deck right behind him.

Sage jumped away, fumbling to get the death launcher loaded. Something whistled past his cheek, and he felt the draft. Zi’i claws, almost getting him again.

He wished he had his helmet so he would have night vision. The only reassuring thing about this was that the Zi’i didn’t have great night vision, either, not unless they had some ambient light around for their eyes to amplify. But the view screen had gone out along with everything else, so no starlight filtered into the bridge.

“I smell you, Captain,” one of the Zi’i growled, prowling toward him.

Did he know Sage had a spear loaded? He’d only managed to grab one though. He longed for his bolt bow. Or even a dagger. He should have hidden more than poison in his armor, but he’d been certain the Zi’i would scan and search him before bringing him to their admiral.

“Just kill him,” the other one said, his growly voice sounding pained.

They fell silent, and the soft scuffs and scrapes of claws on the deck were Sage’s only way of determining his foes’ locations. Only one seemed to be stalking him. But one was enough.

Sage waited until what he believed was the last second, then fired.

Blue lightning streaked all around the spear as it flew into the approaching Zi’i. A yowl of pain sounded as Sage darted out of reach. He doubted he’d struck a killing blow in the dark, and he held the weapon like a club, ready to parry with it.

But a soft thump sounded. The Zi’i dropping to the deck.

Though he might only be wounded, Sage knew he still had to deal with the other one, one that might be sneaking up on him at that instant. He rushed forward and groped at the fallen Zi’i, searching for the spear shaft.

His enemy wasn’t yet dead. As Sage’s fingers wrapped around the spear, a brutally strong grip snapped down around his wrist and squeezed. Only his armor saved him from crushed bones.

Sage dropped the launcher and yanked the spear out of his foe’s side with his free hand, eliciting another yowl of pain. Relentless, he jabbed it into the Zi’i, over and over until it let go of his wrist.

The other injured officer slammed into his back, claws scouring across his armor. Sage tumbled over the fallen Zi’i, but he managed to retain that spear. He spun and rose to one knee, thrusting outward with it. He got nothing but air, and something swiped over his head. Slashing claws? He calculated where the sound had come from and where the rest of the body would be and thrust again.

This time, he plunged the weapon into flesh. A few sparks flew from the spear, though not so impressively as when it was launched from its carrier.

For a second, by the light of the flashes of electricity, Sage saw the muscled Zi’i officer looming over him. He batted at the spear, knocking it from his flesh. It clunked to the deck. Sage found his feet and launched a kick before his enemy could rush him again. The alien roared and slashed at the air between them, claws coming disturbingly close to Sage’s face as the light from the spear faded.

Sage snatched up the spear as he ducked and dodged, but he wasn’t sure how he would get close enough to strike again without the launcher. Where had the thing fallen?

The Zi’i leaped, roaring as he did so, the noise allowing Sage to pinpoint his foe in the dark.

He spread his legs and planted himself, angling the spear upward and bracing it against his hip while doing his best to protect his bare head.

The Zi’i slammed into the spear, his weight almost tearing the weapon from Sage’s hands, but the tip sank in deep. A killing blow.

The lights came back on, and the doors to the bridge slid open.

Sage scrambled to where the death launcher lay on the deck, grabbed it, and jumped to his feet. He didn’t have a spear for it, but he spun toward the lift, ready to use the weapon to beat off a new threat if he had to.

Two Star Guardians in black armor stood there, also at the ready with their bolt bows poised to fire. But they saw Sage and lowered their weapons as they took in the carnage, the four fallen Zi’i.

“Uh, we came to rescue you, sir,” one of them said, Ensign Mikolos.

“Nah, that’s not true,” the second said, Chief Hierax. “We just came to watch you defeat four Zi’i singlehanded. But since we’re too late for that…” Hierax walked over and picked up Sage’s helmet. “We’ll hold your headgear for you. And wipe it off.” He swiped his gauntlet ineffectively over the blood spattered on the visor. “Is this yours or theirs, sir?”

Sage almost said theirs, but he remembered the gash he’d suffered. His blood might very well have spattered the helmet. Now that the adrenaline charging through his veins was abating, he could feel the warmth of his blood trickling down the side of his face.

“I’m not sure,” he said and pulled the three spears out of the dead Zi’i, so he could load them into the death launcher again. Then he strode toward his men, relieved they’d made it up here.

He was on the verge of asking for a report when Hierax added, “Maybe Dr. Tala can do a DNA test and find out.”

“Tala,” Sage blurted, almost tripping. “The Zi’i found sickbay. I heard the report.” He jerked a hand in the direction of the comm station, even though its officer was now dead. “They plan to eat our civilians.”

“Well, they’ll have to get through your brother and five of our men first, sir.”

His brother. Orion. Sage felt like an ass because he’d been more worried about Tala’s death, but what would he say to Mom if he let his baby brother die?

“I have to get back over there,” Sage said. “Take this ship, get everything back online, and get Asan up here to fly it.”

“Get it back online?” Hierax asked. “We just took everything offline, to distract the Zi’i.”

“Yes, you break things well. Now fix them.” Though Sage was worried and wanted to sprint out of there, he made himself pause to squeeze each of the men on the shoulder. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“Somebody had to hold your helmet,” Hierax said, handing it to him.

“Should have known we wouldn’t get to rescue him,” Mikolos said as Sage jogged into the lift.

“I’m certain my power outage was crucial in his victory. The journalists never remember to report the mission critical role that engineers play in battles. We’re supremely under appreciated.”

“Snipers aren’t overly appreciated, either.”

“That’s because you shoot people in the back when they’re not looking. That’s not considered noble.”

“Sometimes, I shoot them in the front. And how is making the lights go out noble?”

The bridge doors slid shut, and Sage didn’t hear the rest. He slammed the bar that would take the lift down to the airlock level, fear filling his chest as he worried that he was too late to help Tala and Orion.